


Lost Together

by sansasnarks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, House Stark, Sibling Bonding, Stark family feels, not many characters here besides these two tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansasnarks/pseuds/sansasnarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After deciding to leave for Winterfell, Jon and Sansa finally talk. Post scene to 6x04.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Together

She was sleeping now, her red hair covering her face and her body wrapped in furs that Edd had brought. The woman - Brienne of Tarth, as she had introduced herself - had insisted on keeping watch outside the door with her squire, and although Jon didn't expect to leave, he appreciated the two's loyalty to his sister. She had told him of the horrors that befell her when she had left King's Landing, all the way until she had escaped and ended up at Castle Black. Jon grimaced now, remembering their conversation. 

_"You're hurt," Sansa said, her voice taking on a concerned note, and Jon followed her eyes to the bottom of his shirt, which had gotten untucked, exposing a bit of his stab wound._

_"It's nothing," he mumbled, but Sansa was already up and lifting the shirt, and she gaped when she saw the other wound. Brienne, who had been sitting uncomfortably next to Tormund, had gotten up as well to follow Sansa._

_"There's more," Sansa said, and Jon sighed. "Jon, what happened?"_

_"Yes, well, it's a long story," he said._

_"He got killed by his own men,"  Tormund offered up helpfully._

_"Well he couldn't have died," Brienne scoffed, but Tormund had shook his head._

_"He was dead, and there ain't no denyin' it. That Red Woman brought him back."_

_"Thank you, Tormund," Jon said crossly. "I - could you give us a moment?"_

_Brienne had a look of shock on her face, but to her credit, she cleared out of the room and Tormund was close at her heels. Jon looked at Sansa, who was looking back at him with an odd expression._

_"You...died?" she asked, a twinge of disbelief in her voice._

_Jon scoffed and sat down on the bench, trying to figure out exactly how he would explain this. Telling his baby sister of how he got stabbed to death had not been on Jon's agenda when they had reunited. He stayed silent, working through his answer when Sansa interrupted his thoughts._

_"Jon," she said, and Jon looked back up at her. "Jon, he said you **died**." _

_"I did," Jon admitted. "I was trying to do right by the Night's Watch, and some of my brothers didn't like it. They murdered me for it." He looked past Sansa then, remembering the ordeal. "One moment I was in the snow, bleeding out, and the next I had woken up on this table, a few days later."_

_Sansa gave a small nod, digesting the information. "So," she finally said after a few  moments of silence. "You - you didn't see anything? Or anyone? When you...passed?"_

_"I wish I had," Jon said quietly. "But there was nothing." He looked up then, not wanting to upset Sansa. He remembered that she was the more religious sibling, who dutifully followed Catelyn Stark to pray every day and would have all her prayers and songs memorized. "Or perhaps I do not remember it," he added on._

_Sansa looked bitter now. "No, you're right," she said. "There was probably nothing. There never is." Jon noticed that Sansa was clasping her hands tightly when she spoke, the knuckles turning whiter with each passing second. Sansa met his eyes and unclasped her hands, clearing her throat as if nothing had happened. "And the traitors? Are they the ones you hung?"_

_"Yes, they were," he answered._

_"Good," Sansa replied, and Jon blinked at the steel in her eyes. He and Sansa had never been particularly close, but he remembered her as the smiling 13 year old child in Winterfell who dreamed of her knight in shining armor, who took pride in her sewing and loved lemon cakes. But then again, Jon had known she was different almost immediately. She had insisted that they go back home, she had read the rest of Ramsay's letter without so much as a tremble in her voice, she was no longer that naive 13 year old girl._

_"Sansa," Jon started. "About Ramsay's letter. His threats -"  
_

_"Mean nothing. We will save Rickon and our home," Sansa said firmly. "He will never hurt me again, and I won't let him hurt Rickon."_

_"Sansa, he has 5,000 men. We barely have half that."_

_She glared at Jon, and then got up. "We will take it back or die trying," she said, and she walked over to the door, muttering that she needed fresh air._

_"What happened to you?" Jon asked, turning in his seat._

_Sansa stopped at the door, her hand hovering over the handle. "Same thing that happened to you," she finally said. "I died."_

_And with that, she was out the door._

The girl sleeping now had no trace of that ferocity. She was just calm, still, and had the hint of a smile on her lips. Jon tried to think back to the last time they had been together like this, and could only think of when Sansa was two years old - before she knew how to speak full sentences or had embraced the lifestyle of a lady, before she knew Jon was her half-brother and only knew him as her big brother. Her hair was covering her face, and Jon smiled and brushed her hair back, but pulled his hands back when she moaned and the smile slipped from her face. She didn't speak, but her mouth formed a silent " _no_ ", and Jon shook her shoulder slightly, hoping to shake her awake. She woke up then with a soft gasp and moved away from Jon's grasp almost instinctively. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Jon whispered, putting his hands at his sides. "It looked like you were having a nightmare." 

Sansa looked around the room, her breathing slowing down as she took in the environment and returning to normal when she looked back at Jon. Her eyes seemed full of sadness, with a bit of embarrassment. "No, you're fine," she said softly, and she gave a small scoff. "I can't believe I had a nightmare. It was silly." She looked over at him, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" 

Jon gave her a small smile. "I wasn't tired. I was just thinking." 

"About what?" Sansa asked, sitting up in bed. She shot him a smile. "I'm not tired right now either." 

"I was thinking about you, actually. When you were two years old," Jon admitted. "You used to beg me and Robb to stay with you during the night." 

Sansa's face lit up. "I did?" she asked. 

"You did," Jon nodded, smiling at the memories. "Your mother would stay with you during the night and sing you songs, and when she left you would run and find me and Robb because you were afraid of the dark, and you wanted us to protect you." He chuckled, remembering little Sansa running out of her room and bumping into Jon and Robb, not questioning why they were there but immediately dragging them into her room to stand watch. "When you did it the first few times, we started standing around your room so you wouldn't run around Winterfell trying to find us. You never noticed that we magically seemed to appear before you left your room. You were just happy we were there. You called us your true knights and wouldn't let us leave until you fell asleep."

The smile faded from Jon's face a little. Those were one of the few fond memories he had shared with Sansa - Catelyn hadn't approved, but she was pregnant with Arya at the time and was far too busy, and Sansa was still young enough to just think of Jon as another brother. Their moments together had decreased quickly a year later, after Arya was born and Sansa had learned more about being a proper "lady". But - Jon brought himself out of that thought, because the Sansa Stark in front of him was smiling and laughing at the memory. 

"I do not remember that at  _all_ ," she laughed. "I can't believe Robb never told me! I didn't even know that we-" she stopped then, and Jon noticed that her expression was the same as his. 

"Were close once?" he asked. 

"Jon, I'm sor-"

"Hey," Jon said firmly. "I already forgave you, remember?" 

Sansa pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Still." 

Jon hesitated for a moment, but then he moved from his seat and sat next to Sansa, and when he saw that she showed no discomfort, he put an arm around her. "When we take back Winterfell and save Rickon, we'll have happy memories there," he said.

Sansa nodded, and leaned her head on Jon's shoulder and continued."The three of us will find Bran and Arya," she whispered, the steel returning to her voice. "And we will drive out everyone who invaded our home." 

"And we will make up for all that lost time. All of us, as a family," Jon added, and Sansa let out a small sigh. 

"That sounds lovely," she said, and Jon could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "We'll be a family again." 

The two stayed there in silence, Jon's arm still around Sansa. Jon wondered if she had fallen asleep when he heard her voice. 

"Jon?" she asked, and Jon could tell that she was close to sleep. 

"Yes?" he said. 

"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore," she mumbled, and Jon heard her give a small chuckle. "I must have known my knights would protect me," she said. "Thank you." 

Jon gave her arm a soft squeeze in response. "You're welcome," he whispered. He heard Sansa's breathing slow down and steady, and Jon knew that she had fallen asleep.

He kept his arm around his sister and closed his eyes, remembering Winterfell, and Robb, and Rickon, and Arya, and Bran. "We'll take it back," he whispered to himself, and he felt his own eyes drooping in exhaustion. 

The steady sound of Sansa's breathing lulled him to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! I desperately needed more Jon and Sansa scenes - and to see how Jon told Sansa he had been resurrected, so this fic ended up getting written.


End file.
